Stargazing
by dArkliTe-sPirit
Summary: Maybe this is why I'm so strange. I'll never know. All I know is, one day, I realized that our current leader, Anti-Cosmo, is a complete and utter sociopath. OC POV, oneshot, some ACxAW fluff


From an OC POV. You have been warned. Speaking of OC, critique on how I wrote him would be great. Same for Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda.

_Fairly Odd Parents_ is not mine. This randomly disregards Fairly Odd Baby, seeing as there's no mention of an Anti-Poof. Didn't really intend for that, but I guess it's too late to change this now.

* * *

I suppose I'm a bit of an oddity. I enjoy stargazing. I hate seeing others suffer. Most importantly, I cannot understand WHY anti-fairies must follow one leader, particularly a cruel one, so blindly. Why does this make me odd?

You see, I'm not a fairy. I'm an anti-fairy - and a blind one at that.

I guess I'm a hybrid or something - my wings are translucent and I have pinkish blotches scattered on my skin. Maybe this is why I'm so strange. I'll never know. All I know is, one day, I realized how beautiful the night sky is, even within this clouded, domed land. I realized how awful my job was, causing children misery. And, probably the biggest turning point in my life, I realized that our current leader, Anti-Cosmo, is a complete and utter sociopath. He hides it very well, but he's still a sociopath nonetheless. Even our former leader, Anti-Binky, is given a run for his money.

Anti-Cosmo, though, is the main reason other anti-fairies shy away from me. He is our leader, after all. And he hates my ideas - that even in our twisted world we have beauty; that we can be good and help others; that causing bad luck is a job and not a way of life. He ridicules them if I ever bring them up and, well, if you disagree with Anti-Cosmo, you become a social pariah very quickly.

That still doesn't keep me away. I'm just careful not to confront him in public places. If we are not in public, he can't deny my ideas publicly. It still hurts, but it's not as cruel.

And this is why I am in the men's bathroom of the Golden Ring. I know every afternoon Anti-Wanda drags her husband by the wrist to here. While she eats, he...well, I'm not entirely sure, this is all I've heard, but I hear he just sits there and stares off into space. Today, I'm hoping he'll have to do a bit more than that.

Hm. Bathroom door's opening. The wood just touched my nose. A rustle of wings. Door closes. Please let this be him.

"Sir?"

"AH!" Even when he screams, his British accent is audible. That's him all right. I wonder if he does really wear a monocle. Last time I could see, it was glasses...oh well. I bet he's glaring at me - I can hear that irritated quick exhale of breath.

"...YOU. Now what?" Though he sounded angry at first, now he just sounds bored. So like him. I suppose he's gotten over the shock of me being here.

"Well, sir, there's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight. I've asked several other anti-fairies if they wish to accompany - and I bet you already know what they said." I can feel him smirking at my failure. Hmph.

"And if I do, then why tell me?" Yeah, he's smirking - it comes out in his voice, a kind of a sardonic amusement.

"Because, sir, I was hoping at least you, a fellow in-" He's glaring again, I can feel it. "An intellectual, could appreciate a bit of astronomy. I know your wife would." Note to self: I can't associate him with me in any way.

"I sincerely doubt that. Now, would you kindly leave or at least shut up?" I frown.

"If you change your mind, the shower is visible at the border. I'll bring my telescope, if you want to see anything in particular." Sometimes, I wonder why I even have one and other times, I wonder why I even try. With both questions in mind, I leave the bathroom. I still hope he comes, though. I have a few things I need to talk to him about.

(---)

And here I am on the hill, alone. I can feel the withered grass even through my shirt. This grass is the borderline between Anti-Fairy World, bustling and full of life, and the Outlands, the dead zone where only brainless idiots (and their husbands who have to find them) go. The telescope is set up and the chilling winds tell me the sun has set. The meteor shower will begin soon and I still lay here alone. Well, I can't expect any less...

"C'mon, Anti-Cozzie!" I sit up - Anti-Wanda? Yes, I even hear the flapping of wings above the sound of the wind. Amazing. He accepted after all.

The grass shifts as he sits down beside me. Well, not quite beside me - about six feet away, on the other side of the telescope. But still, that's closer than he would sit beside most anti-fairies. He must really like my telescope. I can hear the flutter of wings above me and I quickly brace myself.

"Howdy, there!" I imagine Anti-Wanda's waving right above me. I smile a little.

"Howdy yourself."

"I'm not down there, silly! Can't ya sees?" Her tone is more joking than anything, so I'm not offended. Instead, I try to fix my gaze.

"No, dear, he can't." Anti-Cosmo finally speaks. He sounds frustrated.

"Oh....aw, but I wanted to show your friend the pretty leash!" I'm willing to bet Anti-Cosmo is glowering. As for me, I'm laughing - Anti-Cosmo actually keeps his wife on a leash after all. I hear a faint sigh.

"One second." I hear him get up, wings flapping. He's....flying towards me? I sit up and, suddenly, there's a leather strap put in my hand. Hm. Feels like quality stuff. I run my other hand along the leash. Wow. Jewels. They feel real. Anti-Wanda's coming down - the leash slackens in my hands.

"Anti-Cozzie, I think he's trying to take it."

"Hm? No. He's 'seeing' it."

"But you said he can't sees!"

"Not with his eyes, dear. He uses his hands to see."

".....he has eyes in his hands?" I hear Anti-Cosmo smack his forehead. I bet he has a spot on his face darker than anywhere else because he gets so frustrated.

"I suppose you could say that," I said, deciding to intervene in case Anti-Wanda accidentally angers Anti-Cosmo. An angry Anti-Cosmo is scary. I hold the leash out - I think I've 'seen' enough now. "Thank you."

"Hmph." The leash is taken from my hand by Anti-Cosmo (I hope). He's flying back to his spot, I suppose.

"Anti-Cozzie? I think the world's ending."

"Hm? No, dear, those are shooting stars." I look up, visualizing the scene in my head. I can still remember the first time I saw a meteor shower... "You can make a wish on them." I look over towards Anti-Cosmo. That sounds so weird coming from him...unless it isn't Anti-Cosmo at all.

"Okays! I wish-"

"No, dear, not out loud, or it won't come true." Ok, this is starting to get really weird. I've never heard Anti-Cosmo talk like that to anyone, not even his own mother! Granted, she was even worse than he is, but still...

I turn my head towards him. It doesn't feel like he's glaring or being negative in general....maybe now would be a good time to talk.

"Sir, tell me, how are you enjoying Mother Nature's show?" He grunts in reply. "Your wife seems to enjoy it."

"Simple minds have simple pleasures." I'm starting to hate that bored tone he uses.

"And complex minds cannot?" Great - glaring at me again. I better speak quickly. "I mean, they way you were talking to Anti-Wanda before...."

"That does not mean I enjoy this."

"I wasn't saying that....although I must admit, sir, you certainly are acting strangely." The grass rustles as Anti-Cosmo moves - sitting up, maybe? Just simply looking back up at the sky? I might as well go on. It really doesn't make a major difference, I suppose. "All due respect, you are a poster boy for the sociopathic personality - or I thought you were. But, here you are tonight with an anti-fairy you despise, sweet-talking to your wife when, last I heard, you keep neighbors up with your screaming matches."

"Quiet, before I mail you to Jorgen von Strangle in a thermos." His heart's not in it.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"No, you misunderstand me, sir - you would not do it." I look back up towards the sky. "It's been months since we've actually talked, so I can tell something's changed."

"Yes, and I'll tell you, the goody-two-shoes." If his voice was any more acidic, the grass around him would just turn to dust this instant. I bet it has. I have to check later.

"I don't expect you to." I shrug. Honestly, the day Anti-Cosmo opens up to ANYONE is the day the world ends....and even then I have my doubts. He'd probably wait a few more years after that. "But, sir, could you give me an honest answer to my next question?"

"...." Well, nothing lost in trying, right? I take a deep breath. Well, we're actually talking, so it's now or never.

"Sir, just WHY do you enjoy making others suffer?" Anti-Cosmo is silent, as am I. I hear the breeze and Anti-Wanda's occasional cry of awe and wonder, and that's it. After a while, it starts to feel awkward - I shift on the grass, trying to get more comfortable, and envisioning the meteor shower above us. Beats trying to imagine why he's not answering. Finally, I hear Anti-Cosmo's reply just over the sound of the grass rustling.

"...I don't know." To be perfectly honest, I'm shocked.

"...you ARE Anti-Cosmo, correct?"

"Yes." He sounds annoyed. Still...

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I am of the fact that I will feed you to werewolves if you keep questioning me."

"Ah." For the rest of the night, except to ask how the sky looks, I'm silent, trying to make sense of Anti-Cosmo's answer. Fifty years ago, he gave me a straight answer to my question: it was because he was an anti-fairy. He said anti-fairies loved to wreak havoc and the only reason I didn't was because I was brain-damaged. Now, not even he knows. I heard rumors that he once switched fagiggly glands with a fairy - but that's impossible, right? Besides, one organ transplant will not change a sociopath into a caring man.

Finally, I hear him get up, flapping his wings once. "Anti-Wanda?"

"Yeah?" She sounds tired. I suppose it is getting late.

"Let's go."

"Oh." I hear Anti-Cosmo passing me. On a whim, I grab him by his ankle.

"Oh, what NOW?"

"Sir, I know you'll yell at me for this or order my exile, but I am certain now we are more alike than you'll ever admit." I still don't know why he answered me like that, or why he isn't trying to impale me on my own telescope for saying this, but I am certain of what I say now. Now just to brace myself.

For several long seconds, there is silence between us. Anti-Cosmo's gaze does not leave me - and, oddly enough, I don't think he's glaring.

"...Anti-Cozzie? Isn't we leaving?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, of course." Not a word is said to me. Instead, I feel him jerk his foot out of my grasp and hear him fly away with his wife, leaving me with my telescope and questions. I begin to pack up. Then, an answer hits me. Maybe I just never got the full story. There's a piece missing, one from the past fifty years, that now has changed who Anti-Cosmo is. I may never know what it is but now we are equals. You may laugh, you may scoff, you may even ridicule me. I may be blind, but I can still see.

Anti-Cosmo's different from everyone else now, and now he hates me because he knows I'm right.


End file.
